of the Captain corroborated his wildest
imaginings.

"You're dead sure you know all that was going on in that palace?" he
demanded. "There wasn't any American girl coaxed into it on some
pretext?"

He wanted merely the reassurance of her answer, but to his surprise
and growing alarm she hesitated, looking at him half fearfully and
half ashamedly. "Oh, I--I don't know about that," she murmured, with
evasive eyes. "An American girl--very light hair--yes?"

"Very light hair--Oh, good God!" He leaned forward, gripping her
wrist as if afraid she would spring out of the carriage. "You said
she wasn't there," he thrust at her in a voice that rasped.

"I said I don't know--don't know any such name you say. I never hear
it. You hurt me--take your hand away."

"Not till you tell me." But he loosened his harsh grip. "Now tell me
all you know--_please_ tell me all you know," he besought with a
sudden melting into desperate entreaty. Worriedly he stared at this
curious little kitten-thing beside him on whose truth now that other
girl's life was resting.

"Well, I tell you true I do not know that name," began Fritzi
Baroff, with a little sullen dignity over her shame. "And I saved
your life, for it was death for you to go back to that palace. You
heard them coming for us. You would have got yourself killed and
that little girl would be no better. Now I can tell you how to help
her."

"All right--tell me," said the young American in a tense voice.
"Tell me everything you know about it," and Fritzi told him,
throwing aside all pretense of her uncertainty about Arlee,
revealing every detail of the situation that she knew.

And from the heights of his gay relief Billy Hill was flung back
into the deeps of desperate indignation. The anger that had surged
up in him that afternoon when he had felt his fears confirmed flamed
up in him now in a fire of fury. His blood was boiling.... Arlee
Beecher in the power of that Turkish devil! Arlee Beecher prisoned
within that ghastly palace! It was unreal. It was monstrous.... That
radiant girl he had danced with, that teasing little sprite, half
flouting, half flirting. Why, the thing was unthinkable!

He put a hand on the dancer's arm. "We must go to the consul at
once," he said. "We must get her out to-night."

"Consul!" The girl gave a short, derisive laugh. "This is no matter
for consuls, my young friend. The law is slow, and by the time that
law will stand knocking upon the palace